Never Far Behind
by porcelaindakota
Summary: Because the Sidekick has to live on, even when she's not in the story anymore. And because Cerulean Gym and Cerulean Cave are not so far apart.
1. Chapter 1

The mail—mostly addressed to "Resident" or "Cerulean City Pokemon League Gym"—makes a slapping sound that, soft and gentle as it is, is a gunshot through the silence in the lobby. Misty's PokeGear buzzes just a second later, as she leafs through the junk and leaflets, and a two-line email from Ash, asking if he can postpone their phone call that night till later, flickers wearily on the screen. She quickly punches off a reply in the affirmative and pushes the entirety of the stack of mail into the trash.

She presses her answering machine, wonders where her sisters are now. No new messages.

"So," she says absently to Azurill, who bounces at her feet, "Cleaning and feeding's already been done, and now that my evening's open because Ash isn't calling…" She picks up the baby Pokemon. "I guess it's _Kanto's Next Top Model _reruns tonight!"

Her voice is too hard and bright, even to her own ears.

* * *

><p>Two hours and forty-two minutes into <em>KNTM<em>, a chirpy, digitized version of "Viridian City" starts playing; Misty rolls off the couch, scrabbles around on the end table and finds her PokeGear. She is surprised to pick up the phone and see Professor Oak's smiling face. Almost a year had gone by since she had last seen him in person in Pallet, and though they got on amicably—theirs was not a relationship that included social calls.

"Misty, it's good to see you looking well," Oak says in his usual amicable way. "I hear the gym is doing excellently in the League ratings."

This is a point of pride for her, and she cannot help but brighten a bit. "It's been a lot of work, but the PIA has been really positive so far," she replies, consciously trying not to sound overly braggy. At the last League conference, Koga had been crowing without end about his joining the new Elite Four, and she'd made a mental note to avoid ever sounding anywhere near as conceited. And, of course, to kick Koga's ass the next time she saw him.

"Well, Misty, I called because I need your help with my research. Just a little errand," he says, no doubt in response to her raised eyebrows. "We're comparing soil samples from different Pokemon habitats around the region, and we need a sample from Cerulean Cave. Unfortunately, I won't have time to get up there until next month—I'm running collections in Lavender Town until then. Would you be up for the task? I would only need you to send a small amount of dirt and rocks from inside the Cave. I know you're busy, but it would be a great help to me."

It'll be good to do something outside of the Gym, she thinks, and it's not like she has anything better to do anyway.

* * *

><p>Two days later Misty is on her way to Cerulean Cave—not too far a hike from the Gym, a nice swim across the river if she feels like it, a good afternoon trip overall—armed with a couple of collection jars, a flashlight, some homemade chicken salad to snack on and of course her PokeBalls.<p>

The cave entrance itself is a difficult shimmy between rocks, taking care not to slip on their slimy surface or to fall into the wrong crevice. She has visited enough impassable slopes and caves-no-one-can-enter in her travels, though, to be stymied by the Cave, and after a few minutes and bruises is inside, flashlight out, scooping up any dirt or rocks she thinks could potentially be interesting. She pictures Professor Oak in his lab in Pallet, hundreds of miles away, Delia Ketchum down the road, Tracey buzzing around him with his notepad, maybe Gary visiting somewhere in the house.

It is a scene far removed from the cave, and Misty works in quiet for about twenty minutes until a flash of red light startles her and, realizing she should have anticipated it sooner, Psyduck stumbles out.

"Psyduck!" she admonishes, but before she can recall him he has tripped and stumbled out of the narrow beam of her flashlight.

"Psy-ay-ay!" she hears, and then a dull _crunch. _"Psyduck!" she cries, feeling on the ground with one hand while casting her light about for him. At last she catches his tiny tail, wagging somewhat feebly, and follows the beam upwards to see that he has managed to wedge his entire head in a hole in the cave wall.

"Psyduck, I don't know how you do it," she mutters, but the sarcasm's edge is taken away by concern. Psyduck is thrashing wildly in the crevice, but as she begins trying to pull her poor duck out of the rocky wall, he stiffens quick as a gunshot and goes blue.

"Oh no—" Misty begins, but the whole cave goes blue with the force of Psyduck's Psychic, and then the cavern is crumbling under them, and as they fall Misty clings to her little Pokemon and suddenly wishes she ran a gym specializing in flying-types.

* * *

><p>The world reforms itself slowly, browns upon grays before her eyes; the first sensation that comes back is the feel of the dirt and stone, cold under her cheek.<p>

The second is panic. "Psyduck? Psyduck, where are you?" Misty pushes herself up, but even as she gets to her knees a voice that echoes from somewhere, sometime, in her former life comes from behind her: "Your Psyduck is unharmed, as are, I believe, you."

Misty turns, meets the large glassy eyes that she has not seen since a long-ago day in Johto.

"Mewtwo." The Pokemon that stands before her, though, is not the one she remembers. _You could use some sun, _Misty thinks absently, as Psyduck runs to her and wedges his bill under her arm, wagging his tail. She strokes his head and studies this new Mewtwo: paler than last time, to be sure. Thinner, too.

Mewtwo himself does not seem quite sure of the situation, Misty thinks—it's not every day he has humans crashing through into his new home, she rationalizes, and besides, on those other occasions it has always been Ash he has dealt with. Ash, the Hero, not Misty, not the spunky sidekick. Much less the spunky sidekick when she is no longer spunky nor with the Hero to be his sidekick.

"You have inadverdently fallen into my home," Mewtwo says to fill the stretching silence. "While it is impossible for humans to penetrate this deep into the caverns, your Psyduck's attack has brought you here."

Misty blinks once, twice, brings herself back to reality. She is somewhere deep inside Cerulean Cave, with Mewtwo, of all things. The Pokemon stares back at her, and he strikes her as so very tired.

Misty sucks in a breath, tries to reclaim her spunk. She needs it now.

"Well, it's a good thing I fell in," she declares, trying to channel bravado from her red hair and the part of her that still wants to be like before. "I've got chicken salad, and it looks like you need it, Mewtwo."

* * *

><p>She pretends she knows what she is doing, that this is a perfectly normal situation. Mewtwo, she knows, will not accept help lightly, but she can tell from his appearance just how badly he needs it.<p>

And truthfully, it is so nice to have someone in front of her, needing her.

The chicken salad is gone quickly—apparently, Mewtwo is the one being on the planet, other than Misty herself, who enjoys her cooking. She'd never thought she should cater to the humanoid Pokemon market. He eats, she describes the Gym, the Pokemon, recent raids on Team Rocket hideouts by police. Mewtwo never once takes his eyes off her, this first source of contact in who knows how long.

Another long silence falls between them, this more comfortable than the last. Psyduck settles himself in Misty's lab, leaning into her fingers rubbing his head.

"You are… very like the boy."

Misty's head shoots up, faster than Gyarados avoiding getting his scales cleaned. "What do you mean, Mewtwo?"

Mewtwo's eyes narrow, and he studies her. "This—your coming here, treating me like an equal—I would only expect this from the boy. Ketchum. He is the only one to treat me with such kindness." His gaze is intense, but almost academic, studying something he doesn't understand. "Yet here you are. Taking care of me, conversing with me."

"Well." Misty doesn't quite know how to respond to that. "You deserve it. To be treated well, I mean."

Mewtwo's eyes soften. "For you to say that means a great deal to me. Thank you. You are… a special human."

Misty hesitates, begins to reach out, but her watch breaks the moment—it beeps frantically, and she glances down to realize that it is ten o'clock. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I have to get back to the Gym! I have to put the Pokemon down for the night and lock up!" She stands up hurriedly, recalling Psyduck.

Mewtwo rises as well. "I shall transport you to the surface of the Cave," he says evenly, his words tinged with an emotion Misty recognizes readily—disappointment.

She summons up her redhead bravado again and flashes him her best smile, the smile that has gotten her through so many nights of _don't worry you'll win the badge next time _or _she just doesn't know what a great guy you are _or _your boyfriend was so stupid, you're so much better than him anyway, _all those moments in the side of the frame, being the supporting cast. "I'll come back tomorrow, and I'll bring more stuff. Is that okay?"

The smile Mewtwo gives her is, she thinks, the first genuine one he's made all night.

* * *

><p>Promptly at four the next day she locks up the Gym—she never gets challengers that late anyway, Misty reasons, and even if some one-badge wonder shows up, there's someone who needs her more now. So she loads up her pack, more food, a first aid kit, blankets, newspapers and books, and once again sets out to Cerulean Cave.<p>

She doesn't really know how she's going to get down this time to the secret caverns below—asking Psyduck to have an accident again seems cruel—but after a few minutes in the cool darkness, there is a blue light and she once again finds herself in Mewtwo's underground chambers.

He floats in front of her, smiling, relieved, she thinks, that she kept her word. "Good afternoon," he says, the words as formally intoned as always.

"Good afternoon to you too," Misty replies. She doesn't need to fake the grin she flashes him; her own relief, at Mewtwo's improved appearance, gives her the energy she needs. "I brought you some things."

Mewtwo tucks into the food she brought while Misty sets out to make the space more hospitable, not just inhabitable. She spreads out the blankets on the area she thinks looks least horrible for sleeping, and makes a mental note to deliver some pillows and maybe a comforter or air mattress. She finds a flat rock that she thinks would function nicely as a shelf, and lines up the books and newspapers. She feels Mewtwo's eyes on her, but she doesn't mind.

She sits down in front of her arrangements and pulls out the First Aid kit. Mewtwo pauses in his rapid-fire eating and looks at her, questioning.

"You've obviously got some cuts and bruises that need looking after," Misty says. "You need at least some basic medical supplies just in case." She feels it's somewhat ironic that she's saying this to the most powerful Pokemon she's ever met and not, say, Ash or Brock, but as it's by far the least absurd factor in this encounter, she lets it slide.

* * *

><p>"I am very indebted to you," for taking such good care of me," Mewtwo says later that evening. "I should at least spare you the hike to your home."<p>

They materialize in the familiar blue light in Misty's living room. "Feel free to look around," she says to Mewtwo. "You can introduce yourself to the Pokemon, if you'd like. They're in the aquarium, just down the hall."

Mewtwo nods and glides away, apparently to do just that. Misty flips on the TV, mainly for the white noise in the background. "_…a break-in at a mining machinery manufacturer in Pewter City has authorities baffled…"_

She follows the same hallway she pointed Mewtwo down, and readies her Pokemon for nighttime as he watches. Once the temperature gauge on Caserin and Luverin's tank has been properly raised, she locks up.

The Gym assumes its usual pin-drop silence, punctuated only by the sound of Misty's pool shoes on the carpet. Mewtwo floats a few feet away, studying this human habitat.

"Your home is very comfortable," he says when they have reached the living room again.

"Thank you," Misty replies. "You know, you're welcome to visit, if you'd like." She pauses. The silver gild of her sisters' picture frames glints at her in the semi-darkness. "No one's ever here except for Gym challengers, I think it'd be safe."

She looks at Mewtwo, and again—like in that first visit in the Cave—his eyes are surprised, taken aback, but… happy. "I would very much like to visit you here," he says slowly. "I have not left the Cave for some time now."

"Then it's settled." Misty brandishes the remote and smirks. "Tomorrow I introduce you to _Titanic_."

* * *

><p>So, this is my first fic for Pokemon, but it's been floating around in my head for a while now. This will (I think) be a four-parter, mainly focusing on Misty, some on Mewtwo, and some mentionings of everyone else. Hopefully it's decent-reviews are love!<p>

-pd


	2. Chapter 2

_As a quick note, this references "Mewtwo Strikes Back" and "Mewtwo Returns"._

* * *

><p>While Mewtwo may not have enough estrogen to truly relish <em>Titanic, <em>he (at least to Misty) seems to tolerably enjoy it. (Misty, for her part, had worried she would have to explain why the car was steaming up, but thankfully that particular question never comes up). She also takes advantage of the movie night to introduce the aloof psychic Pokemon to a broader variety of human foods:

"_These are the main food groups: chocolate, ice cream, and everything else. Tonight we're learning about ice cream." _

So here is perhaps one of the more ludicrous moments in her life, which, Misty feels, has already been quite adequately supplied with them: Mewtwo, the nearly-all-powerful psychic juggernaut, sitting on her sisters' flower-patterned couch, covered in a green quilt, levitating chunks of Ben and Jerry's from the carton to his mouth.

For what might be the first time, she reflects, she is forging a friendship—an _important_ friendship—entirely on her own. There is no Ash, no Brock, no Daisy or Lily or Violet there, no group to be absorbed by or the whims of which she must accommodate. Misty herself wears the grooves in this relationship, determines its shape and course; she honestly can't remember the last time she was connected to someone in a way that her friends or siblings weren't.

(In the time that her friends and sisters have been gone, she realizes, she simply _hasn't _made those most vital of connections).

It's new, but not altogether bad.

* * *

><p>It's sometime the week after—Misty has stopped tracking time so painstakingly, now that there is something other than her work at the Gym and its pressing loneliness to occupy it—when she first notices the hikers.<p>

Psyduck waddles happily alongside her, the sunshine reflecting off of his fresh-cleaned coat. Misty herself carries a backpack filled with the day's _Cerulean City Journal_, half a dozen Rage Candy Bars, and a few water bottles that tinkle merrily with every step she takes. She crosses the meadows and rivers from the Gym to the Cave easily, feeling the power in the muscles in her legs with each step; she feels strong.

Usually, the stretch from the river on is fairly empty, filled with maybe a few sightings of wild Pokemon. Instead, as Misty and Psyduck hike down the riverbed, she turns and sees a small cluster—maybe four adult figures, mostly men and one small, lithe blonde woman. Misty casts her eye over their apparel, heavy-duty hiking gear.

The woman looks somewhat familiar, but Misty is too far away to tell. She watches their figures pull away into the distance, then turns towards the Cave.

* * *

><p>"So did you bring the other Pokemon from Mt. Quena here too?"<p>

Mewtwo, levitating next to Misty, pauses; she notices his hesitation and wonders if she asked something she shouldn't have.

Mewtwo frowns but answers. "I felt it would endanger them too greatly to remain with me." He touches down next to her, landing so softly that his feet are noiseless on the stone. Though they now stand on the same plane, he avoids her eyes. "Surely you understand. I feel my own solitude is worthy payment for their safety."

"I understand. I'm sorry to remind you by asking."

"The fault does not lay with you, my friend." Mewtwo raises his eyes to hers and then lifts off, just as silent and precise as when he had descended to her level. He twists down the cavern ahead of them, and Misty gets the impression he is deliberately using this show of finesse as a very distinct change of subject. "Come. There is another chamber ahead, which contains a small underwater lake. I am sure it would be of great interest to you."

Misty accepts the shift, her old running shoes crunching against the cave floor. She wills away the sadness that seems to creep in from the walls, seep into the shadows and surround them, chooses to focus on Mewtwo's blue light ahead of her instead.

* * *

><p>She is over an hour late, but it is because <em>he <em>is over an hour late.

Misty checks her Seaking wristwatch, calculates time differences in her head for what feels like the hundredth time that evening. She checks her PokeGear's email again—no, she had the right day.

A hot lump wells up in her throat, but she forces it down. No, she will not cry because of something so stupid, because of _someone _so stupid, dammit.

Life has taught Misty that the best way to deal with upsetting emotion is to redirect it to righteous fury, and thanks to technology, she no longer needs to be face-to-face with Ash Ketchum in order to release said fury: instead, her faithful PokeGear, which never reschedules and then forgets, comes out and sends a message that, in Misty's opinion, does a rather good job of hiding just how close she is to frustrated tears.

_Ketchum—_

_This is the fourth call in a row you've skipped. If you don't want to talk to me, just say so. _

She presses _SEND _with a surge of vengeance, slams the PokeGear shut, and grabs her bag. A friend of hers who hasn't chosen to behave like a complete jerk is waiting, after all.

A hot, sickly anger consumes her through the hike over. She can't tell if she's angry at Ash for being typical Ash or at herself, for expecting any different, for expecting him to remember his cast-off old friend.

Mewtwo, in an instance of surprising perception, eyes her questioningly almost as soon as he brings her down to the Cave's basement. Misty hopes her eyes aren't red—her voice certainly sounds tinny and alien when she says hello and tells him she brought the next _Harry Potter _to add to his growing library.

He nods his thanks, but, Misty can tell, he is already on his guard. "I'm sorry I'm late," she adds quickly, breezily. _Don'taskwhydon'taskwhydon'taskwhy…_

"There is no cause to apologize," Mewtwo replies. "Is everything all right?"

Misty considers her options. The first is to lie. The problem is that, frankly, she doesn't know if she has the energy to pretend nothing is wrong, and perhaps just as importantly, Mewtwo does not deserve to be lied to, and does not deserve the resentment she knows she will feel afterwards if he does not call her on it.

Also, he might just instantly know she is lying anyway. Misty doesn't know if psychic powers work that way.

So without really considering the consequences, the truth erupts out of her: "Ash was supposed to call today, we've rescheduled this call so many times now and he didn't even email to cancel, he just blew me off!" Misty feels the heat rising on her cheeks and know her face is turning her signature crimson. "I can't believe that he would just _forget _like that!"

Mewtwo's eyes have gone a little wider—this is the first time he's had a teenage girl have a breakdown on him—but Misty continues, caught up in the tide of hurt. "I know I'm not important to him anymore"—and this is what injures her the most, this of the "best friend" who once told her they were fated to meet—"but I thought he still cared enough to at least call when he tells me he will. But _no." _A deep breath, and _crap, _she hears the catch, the almost-sob in her voice. "I haven't heard from Brock or Tracey in forever either, and my sisters are off traveling the world, and it's like they all forget that I'm still here, and…"

And this is the point where Mewtwo finally reaches out, places one cool, calming pink hand (is it technically a hand? she doesn't even know) on her shoulder, and Misty flings her arms around him in a far more violent display of emotion than the Pokemon probably anticipated.

To his credit, he handles it well, not flinching away but patting her somewhat awkwardly on the back. It's the thought that counts, and Misty's sniffles gradually die away—she unwinds herself from Mewtwo, takes a step back somewhat guiltily.

"Sorry," she finally says, her voice cracking. "You don't need me throwing myself at you." She laughs at herself, short and bitter. "I'm not normally this crazy, I promise."

Mewtwo shakes his head. "It is all right. I feel… that our situations are very similar." The air is very heavy around them; his long tail flicks powerfully back and forth, as if dispelling the weights that hang over them. "Responsibility has relegated each of us to step away from those we have loved, to take up isolation. We each understand that within the other. Perhaps that is why we have become such close companions, in such a short time."

It's practically a treatise, coming from Mewtwo, and Misty looks at him, still feeling a bit watery, but when she speaks her voice and her eyes are clear. "I think that's true. But I'm sorry for adding to your own burdens like this."

"You haven't been alone so long," Mewtwo replies, "as to forget that taking on one another's burdens is, in fact, the purpose of a friend."

He hesitates, then adds: "And I am sure this is true not only for me and you, but for the others, as well."

* * *

><p>"You have shared with me a great vulnerability today," Mewtwo says, four Rage Candy Bars and three chapters of <em>Harry Potter <em>later. "And I have decided… that there is a secret of mine that is owed you."

Misty shuts the book and cocks her head. "You can tell me anything, Mewtwo."

His eyes are the stillest she's ever seen them. "Mt. Quena… was not the first time our paths crossed." Her eyes widen, but Misty does not say anything, and he takes this as permission to continue.

"There was a time before… in a place called New Island."

He reaches out, places one small pink hand on each of Misty's temples. She realizes in the split-second before his eyes burn blue that this is _show _rather than _tell_; she shuts her eyes and images flood her mind, come roaring back, and she has another realization—she has seen all these scenes before, these are _her _memories.

It all comes hard and fast, but still she knows what each means: a dangerous storm crossing, finding the bizarre castle, the manufactured Pokemon and the psychically-enslaved Nurse Joy within, the Pokemon and their clones fighting… Ash dying, (_"Please no")_…Ash coming back… Mewtwo's change of heart. And there, at the end—Mewtwo, declaring it best he wipe their memories.

"I hope you do not think less of me for what I did," Mewtwo's voice echoes, and Misty opens her eyes.

It astounds her, briefly, that so much could happen, much less that her best friend could _die before her eyes _and that she would simply forget. These are things that should be burned in her mind forever, images that should race under her eyes as she falls asleep, gratefulness that should sear her veins every time she sees her friends' faces, living and vital.

The memories themselves, however, have no such earthquaking property about them—but the fact that she could ever _forget _throws her firmly off-axis. The absence of this gravity in her life outweighs the actual events, in a way Misty doesn't entirely know how to explain to herself. The crater is greater than what crashed inside it.

She reaches for Mewtwo's hand in silence. These memories should shock her, horrify her, she knows—but then again she has seen them before, they are not _new_. With their recollection comes also their familiarity. She feels a quiet inside her, that they have opened up something reverent, something to be protected. They are each very aware of this new level of understanding—it is a tangible part of the air itself, a piece of this underground sanctuary, something organic grinding in the soil between Misty's fingers.

"You are," Mewtwo says, finally breaking the silence, "the only being, other than myself, who knows of these events."

To say he trusts her, they both know, would now be redundant—a waste of precious breath, an insult to this bridge between them.

* * *

><p>So, hopefully everyone isn't horribly OOC. Reviewsconcrit are love!

-pd


End file.
